Calamity
by DirectionsUnclear
Summary: The Avengers Initiative wasn't the only response to Galactic threat. Through great sacrifice, patient L041 was a modern marvel of human-biotic integration, and as a sleeper agent, even unaware to herself, she was the perfect weapon. "A perfection of means and confusion of aims seems to be our main problem" -Albert Einstein
1. Calamity

**First story, still working out some kinks so I apologize if it's a little choppy. I'm having trouble deciding on a perspective, so I'm doing a lot of hopping around. If this is annoying/confusing, it's something I will definitely change. The rating will also likely change, but not for a while. I'm really excited to start this journey, I hope everyone else will enjoy the ride with me. Starts out pretty in-line with the movie (I use Loki's speech from the party in Germany, but come on, it was excellent!), but it will veer off in the next chapter and likely from then on.  
**

Elena let out a snarl as she spun a powerful kick into the already groaning punching bag, snapping its strained chain. She sent the sack flying across the room towards a recently opened door, and subsequently, unsuspecting man. Before he could raise his hands in protest, Elena's biotics flared and she felt a tight buzzing in left arm. Thrusting her clenched fist towards the hurling objected, she ensnared it moments before impact, and slammed the bag into the ground. There was a silence while sand and powder settled around the room. The man stood, frozen in place as Elena turned, eying the small panel of generals and politicians who had been evaluating her performance.

_"She's perfect."_

_..._

The wake of the Thor's banishment to Earth opened our eyes to the pathetic and almost comedic vulnerability our planet harbored in the face of an unknowingly powerful galactic universe. Every country responded forcefully in it's own way. SHIELD was an incredibly effective example of how U.N. collaboration and money could deliver success. However, the US government, unwilling to place all of its interest in one project, allocated funds to several other experimental research programs. A step undoubtedly taken by most countries, and each likely as unaware of the other as the public was of their missions. One enterprise in particular flourished tremendously: Calamity. After several rather, _unsuccessful, _attempts at human-biotic integration, patient L041, was a remarkable triumph. The removal, or rather suppression of the patient's past life, left vast amounts of unused neurons (that might, for example, have previously triggered a learned habit or memory) available for reassignment. The subject was then trained in language, combat, artillery, coding, and stealth: the perfect soldier. Upon which, they were released into society with a rewritten identity and past;_ sleeping_, until reactivated.

* * *

Elena breathed evenly as she leaned deeply into her partner. Jon had been her dance collaborator and friend for the passed three years; marking her move to Stuttgart. He was funny, reliable, and her go-to confidante. The music swam about her senses, ceasing all other thought, and she closed her eyes, allowing it to carry her through the routine. The crowd encircled the pair, enamored by the unexpected performance at the gala. Finally, the blonde man slowly lowered her in his arms while she eloquently arched her back. The song's end bled seamlessly into the crowd's applause. Opening her eyes she was immediately caught by piercing emerald eyes belonging to a tall, lean man with slick, dark hair, and a matching dark suit trimmed in green. His incinerating stare weakened her as he appraised the show, a small curve on the edge of his lips. A tugging began at the side of her skull, as an unrelenting pressure invaded her mind. Unable to tell if she was unwilling to look away, or physically incapable of doing so, she was grateful when Jon's strong arms brought her upright and into a bow. Elena turned to inspect the man further, but he was gone. The moment was brought to an end as the party's host briskly took center stage, proudly gallivanting the dancers around the grand room, gathering admiration and praise from the party's attendees.

...

Loki twisted around, leaving Barton to his task of unlocking the vault, while he returned to the soiree. After all, it would be rude to keep his people waiting. His mind wandered as he calmly strolled down a long corridor. That mortal woman's fluid movement had caught his interest. Not many midgardians possessed the grace she displayed; none so far, in fact. Without knowing why, he had begun to idly sift through her mind. Not looking for anything in particular, just bits and pieces of her memories: _Mother was a teacher; father an accountant. Graduated University, ballet and contemporary training, worked in advertising firm…_ He had halted his search, disgusted with her…_humanness_, and returned to Barton. Now, on his way back to the party, he found himself pondering her further. She had led one of the most cliché mortal lives he could have possibly imagined. Right down to receiving a puppy for that ridiculous Winter Solstice celebration. Her life had held no real strife, no understanding of burden, pain, or responsibility. As the rest of her ridiculous, bumbling race, she was devoid of objective and drive. _He would give her purpose_. A wicked smile played across his features, briefly.

_He would_ _give them all, purpose_.

Descending the grand stairs, he glided towards his target with swift determination. The older man had his arm around a young woman, the dancer from before. _Undoubtedly parading her around as if her accomplishments and beauty were attributed to him in some way, Loki_ mentally sneered; _frightening the girl will be a delightful bonus_. Immobilizing two guards, he approached the group swiftly, sparing a devilish smile to the young woman before grabbing the older man. Effortlessly flipping him over, the god slammed the midgardian's back onto a large marble slab in the center of the room. The gala burst into chaos.  
The panic that overtook the room was palpable, as finely dressed men and women retreated in every directions with screams and shouts. The woman remained paralyzed, focused on Loki. Retracting a strange machine from his jacket, he gleefully shoved the metal object into the eye-socket of his victim. Blood splattering his white shirt, his smile became ravenous as he gazed out, admiring the disarray he had caused. Catching the widened stare of the dancer, his eyes devoured her's, eagerly searching for fear in their depths. He found nothing. Her eyes remained stoic and unyielding.

_What was wrong with this mortal_? He pondered, tilting his head slightly, _so calm amongst such discord_. Momentarily distracted by intrigue, his machine relentlessly bore deeply into his victim's eye.

...

_What is wrong with me? _

Elena was unable to move, not necessarily because she was frightened, but rather, because she remained unfazed and curious. She didn't know what to do, but knew that there was something she _should _do, and was thus, impaired and confused. Everything she thought she had ever known told her she was ill prepared for such a confrontation, but something in the back of her mind whispered otherwise. Before she could further evaluate the predicament, her clenched fist was roughly seized from her side, and she was drug from the room into the cold night.  
"What the hell was that?!" Jon shouted at her as she trailed an arm-length behind the tall, blonde man, "I've heard of killing them with kindness, but I'm not sure killing them with blank stares has the same effect." Sarcasm dripped off her friend's tongue. "Though I will not deny he is d_elicious_." He winked at Elena, and she begrudgingly smiled at her friend's guaranteed absurdity in a time of crisis.

...

Loki calmly trailed the bulk of the party outside, where they cowered in a large group. Transforming into his armor he towered over them and commanded them to kneel. The group turned to flee in the opposite direction, only to be met by an exact replica of the god, who again commanded, **"Kneel."**

Three more Lokis met the frightened bunch before they returned to face the original as he bellowed with unquestioned authority, **"KNEEEEEEL."**

Everyone knelt in terror; Elena was pulled down among them.

Loki laughed, contented, "Is not this, simpler? Is this not your natural state?" He began to move through the party, "It's the unspoken truth of humanity, that you crave subjugation."

He moved near Elena and she quickly looked away, avoiding his gaze and attention.

"The bright lure of freedom diminishes your life's joy in a mad scramble for power…for identity. You were made to be ruled. In the end, you will always kneel." He spoke knowingly and with such passion that Elena marveled his fervor while her unease was simultaneously heightened. Nothing was more powerful and worthy of fear than a man filled with absolute conviction.

An older gentleman stood defiantly amongst the crowd, "Not to men like you."

The god smiled arrogantly, "There are no men like me."

"There are always men like you." The old man bit back.

Loki happily raised his scepter, "Look to your elder people. Let him be an example."

Elena struggled from Jon's grasp and thrust herself between the man and his impending doom. Loki's grin broadened as he continued to point his weapon at the two. Elena felt an oddly familiar stinging sensation in her arm, she clenched her fist and it intensified, pooling in her palm. The god's eyes flashed with surprise before immediately returning to an impassive state. Elena followed his gaze to her left arm, almost stumbling back in shock. Her arm, elbow-down, was covered in what appeared to be flickering green electricity. He fired, issuing a powerful beam of blue light at the insubordinate pair. Instinctively, she punched her arm forward, sending forth her own stream of energy, quickly engulfing the scepter and launching the golden stick from Loki's hand. The deadly beam tore off-course, crumbling the stone statues surrounding the party, and the group erupted into disorder once more.  
Within seconds Loki hurled himself off the ground impossibly high, snatched his scepter from mid-air, and materialized in front of Elena. He reached for her, but an unexpected force pushed them apart, and a man straitened from a crouched, landing position to face Loki. The fall had sent Elena tumbling and she watched the scene seated, a few meters away. The man in question was clad in what appeared to be, a spandex American flag. _You have got to be joking,_ she almost rolled her eyes. Without waiting to see more, she quickly crawled to stand, and escaped the ensuing battle.

Elena sprinted the entire way home, not stopping until she slammed the door to her flat. Leaning back, she unsuccessfully attempted to catch her breath as her mind raced. Kicking her heels to the floor, she pushed off the door frame, and stumbled to the bathroom mirror. As expected, her makeup was running and smeared across her face, mixed with dirt and a little blood, and her long, dark hair was snarled in knots atop her head and along her shoulders. What she did not anticipate was the dull vacancy of her once rich, jade eyes. Something had changed within her that left an unrecognizable shell. _Who was she? _Turning on the faucet, she leaned down to splash cold water on her face. A searing pain shot through her head, followed by brief, fragmented visions that sent her to her knees: _A man and woman she was unable to place, a young boy and girl running through the long grass of an empty field, a small cabin covered in vines and flowers, the sweet savory smell of baking bread…_

A piercing scream began in the back of her conscience, slowly crescendoing until it became earsplitting, and finally, darkness.


	2. Intrigue

Morning dew misted across Elena's face, rousing her from an anxious slumber; she felt the tickle of tall grass against bare skin and smiled. Only a soft fluttering breeze blowing through the trees, and the Larks' morning songs could be heard in the distance.  
Opening her eyes she saw the pale sky of dawn, bordered by a thick nest of tall pine trees; she was alone and at peace. Abruptly, her body caught up with her thoughts, screaming in agony, as the memories (and lack thereof for that matter) of the night washed away her once tranquil state. Bolting upright, she scanned the area. A searing pain ripped through her scalp as her brain reconciled last night's distorted images with her current surroundings: Open, grassy meadows; expansive, encompassing forestry. Her eyes rested on a cabin.  
The reality of the small home was a dilapidated shell of the recollection: rotten pieces of wood splintered from the warped deck, and the door sagged limply on its long unused hinges, while a thick overgrowth of vines and weeds wrapped the house, inside and out. It had clearly been unoccupied for years.

_Why was she here?  
How the hell had she gotten here?  
Where the __**fuck**__ was here?_

Reaching down, and desperately hoping that what she was looking for would still be in its place, she hiked up the shredded fabric of her dress. Brushing her fingers across her thigh, she immediately came into contact with the cool plastic case of her phone, held tightly in place by a dark green garter. She laughed in pure triumph, making a mental note to chide Jon for insisting its tackiness had outweighed her utility of the garment.

_Speaking of. _She sent off a quick text to the aforementioned, not trusting the voice in her dry, sore throat.

**Lost. Can send coordinates. Help?**

His response came almost immediately,

**Send them. OMW.**

She sighed, relieved, and used her GPS to search her location. The signal was weak, but it was there, almost 13 miles from Stuttgart, in the comprehensive Black Forest. Sending off her location she put her phone back in its place, hoping Jon wouldn't be too put out by the rescue trip. All she had to do was wait, and wonder how she found herself over ten miles from home.  
Pushing up from the ground, she dusted off, and attempted, in vain, to smooth her ruined dress. Glancing around again, she noted that the serenity she had found within the tall grass had evaporated, replaced by an unexplained anxiousness.

_All I have to do is wait. _She reminded herself. _Hopefully not for long._

* * *

A tall, dark haired man watched from the shadows of the trees. After thwarting SHIELD's attack the night prior, he tracked the frantic girl to her apartment. He had originally planned on his apprehension by the spy organization. However, that was before he had met this mortal. Well, not so much _met_ as attempted domination… Specifics aside, the results had been… unexpected.  
There was something amiss with this midgardian, something besides her unusual power; either way, he wasn't going to allow her escape. The girl's mind had seemed weak, full of paltry memories and subtle struggles. He was repulsed by her very apparent humanness, and yet she had stood so defiantly in his presence. She had faced almost certain death for a stranger, and once more, lived.  
A pained gasp shattered his silent reverie as the startled woman sat up in the field several meters away.  
Upon finding her the previous evening, he had been greeted by the site of an extremely disheveled and seemingly entranced girl dragging her bare feet out the door, and down the street. Curious, he followed. Without warning, she burst into a sprint, unceasing, for almost twenty kilometers, whereupon she collapsed in this field.  
He smirked a little at the memory; this mortal had no idea how interrelated the length of her life was with his piqued intrigue, but surprisingly, he found it increasing exponentially with every moment.  
She appeared as puzzled with her choice destination as he had been, and spent several moments absorbing her surroundings. Loki's eyes widened briefly as her fingers danced over what remained over her long dress, sliding it back to reveal a deep green garment wrapped around her upper thigh. Bursting into celebratory laughter, she clutched an object to her chest before her tangled hair fell over it and her face, concealing her actions. She was odd indeed. He watched as she struggled off the ground, waiting in the shadows of the forest until she had completely disappeared into the house before pursuing.  
Stepping forward into the early sunlight, Loki followed the strange midgardian he was obstinate to understand.


	3. Cat and Mouse

Elena crept slowly and carefully through the foyer and into the dilapidated living room, the faintest hint of familiarity dancing lightly in the back of her mind. The home appeared to have been evacuated quickly, all of the old furnishings and pictures lay rotting and forgotten. Kneeling beside the crumbling remains of what had once been a fireplace, she gently lifted a fallen frame from the dust and soot, and turned it over to reveal a water-damaged photograph. The picture looked to have been taken ten to twenty years ago and had aged poorly exposed to the elements. However, Elena could make out the figures of what appeared to be a family: A mother, father, and two children. She studied the mother and father for a moment, her thumb absently concealing the face of the children. A sharp shot suddenly sent her mind violently wrenching between the present, her past, and the memories of someone she did not know.

_She was with her mother and father at the beach, running along the sand. Reaching up, she happily clasped her mother's hand, and sought her reassuring gaze. The woman who's eyes she met where unlike her mother's, but strangely enough, more akin to her own. The woman's bright green eyes held a warm mirth Elena had never felt before as the two danced through what had now become grassy fields. A small boy was gently tugging the opposite hand of the mysterious woman, as he scurried to keep up with their quick pace._

Elena gasped back into the present, desperately gulping for breath. She slumped forward into the kitchen doorway, using the walls and furniture as leverage to heave her body towards the backdoor. Again and again her mind sunk back into memories; some familiar, others unknown. As if she were being drowned, every time she sought freedom from its depths an invisible force submerged her, just beneath the surface. Struggling for air and consciousness, she pushed herself through the backdoor, tearing it from one of it's old hinges, and stumbled into the long grass. Panting, Elena fell to her knees, her entire body shaking. After slowing her breath, she opened her eyes and her gaze fell upon something she recognized, but had never _actually_ seen. Thus, her horror took moments to arise as she reached forward, removing the weeds and debris from an old covered area of charred earth, revealing a pile of burned and decayed bones.

_Fuck fuck fuck__** fuck**__. What the fuck? _

Elena's mind raced and she pushed away from the ground too terrified to utter a scream. Immediately her body came into contact with something hard, tall, and cold that had definitely not been there before. With defiant determination, she gathered all of her force and fear, pitching it around into a heavy punch, and knocking back the mystery she had no desire to understand.

* * *

Loki stepped into the derelict living room just as the woman lurched suddenly forward, and stumbled, rather savagely, out the back door. His long strides brought him quickly to the picture he had watch fall from her hands, and reached to pick it up. He saw a family of four, as his eyes rested on the young girl their current location became clear. Her bright, almond green eyes unmistakably belonged to the woman outside, but why was she here now?

_A question you should be asking yourself_. His conscience chided.

Why had he followed this strange creature? He dropped the photograph, crossing the kitchen, and out the backdoor to find mortal, while oddly silent, was clearly entering some form of hysteria, her body shook violently and her jagged breath was strained. He approached softly, spying the pile of long-decayed bones that seemed to have been the woman's undoing.

_Her family, perhaps?_

He stopped to consider the possibilities further before feeling the small human back into his form, obviously startling herself. Loki was not prepared, however, for the shocking punch that followed, sending him a few steps back. Irritated, not by the aggression itself, but that it had gone unanticipated, flicked his wrist and produced an icy disk from the air. Expertly slinging the ice-shrapnel towards the offending woman, he forced her to dive rapidly from it's dangerous path. Rolling lightly over her back, she immediately righted herself, facing him in a low crouch. They circled each other slowly, her eyes hard and predatory, and for the first time in a long time, Loki felt like the pray. A wide grin slithered its way across his face. _This_ was why he had followed this mortal. She was a quandary indeed, and Loki had never been the one to pass up a puzzle. Even more amusing, she seemed to be as confused as he regarding her origins. Her eyes were focused intently on him and he took the time to penetrate her mind once more. Looking for something, anything to explain this anomaly. The tension was heavy, almost at its breaking point; he would not be able to hold her attention this way much longer. His search came to a halt as he felt his mind physically incapable of diverging further. As if he had hit a brick wall, her mind was sealed as tightly as a vault.

_Curious, Curious._

He heard the sounds of an approaching car.

"What are you?" She broke the silence first.

"I could ask you the same," he responded, wanting to keep her still moments longer, while he continued prodding into her steeled mind.

Without warning, the woman sprinted forward, throwing a handful of dirt into the god's face and sliding between his distracted gait. She stood straight to run, not noticing the ghostly disappearance of the false form of the man she had believed momentarily thwarted and the appearance of the real man behind her who ensnared her arms with one hand, and held her neck dangerously tight in the other.

"That wasn't very nice," Loki smiled into her ear; he liked this one, "Whomever did this to you will come back eventually. You were obviously quite the investment." He intensified his threatening grip, "What is your name?"

The girl twisted slightly to face him, meeting his eyes, the fire from earlier had died and she looked cold and defeated.

"Elena."

There was a silence.

"What _are_ you?" she asked, recognizing her helplessness.

"A god, and you would do well to remember that." He disliked her lack of revere, something she would need to improve upon.

"I can protect you from them." If he could understand this mortal, perhaps he could wield their own weapon against the rest of them.

"Run from a hypothetical enemy into the arms of a decided one? That doesn't seem like a smart move to me."

"I don't have to be an enemy." He wasn't sure of his intentions with those words, but he uttered them all the same. She visibly relaxed to his, and he was smiled, amused and confident.

"I'm sorry." She said lowly, he began to ask her meaning before noticing one of her arms, loosened from his one-more distracted grasp, had snaked its way around his neck. He felt her fingers tense followed by a powerful electric wave through his body that sent him flying back, and consequently, released Elena roughly to the ground.

As if on queue, a Range Rover barreled around the corner and into the long over-grown drive. Elena sprinted for the vehicle, jumping into the passenger seat. Loki watched casually from the ground, taking longer than necessary to recover from the surprising blow. There was no need to rush, he knew where she was going and if his early presumptions were correct, she would need his aid before long anyway.

Jon barreled down the road and away from Elena's would-be capturer,

"What the fuck was that? What is going on? Where are we..."

The questions came frantically and without end.

"I don't know, I don't know!" Elena held her head in her arms, attempting to focus her racing mind.

"The last thing I remember, I was at home in my bathroom. I had a terrible migraine and blacked out. The next thing I knew, I was in front of this cabin, and the…man from last night was there." She delivered her incredibly understated and condensed version of recent events.

There was a heavy silence in the car.

"So we're just not going to talk about the whole new, _controlling electricity_ thing?"

"You saw?" she stole a glance in Jon's direction, wary of his rejection.

"Of course I saw! Half of Stuttgart saw! You, Mussolini, and Captain America kind of caused a scene."

"Mussolini and Captain America?"

"Didn't you see the guy clad in a spandex suit? It's a comic book character; he seriously looked _just _like him. As for Mussolini, I assumed the whole kneeling fetish would've covered that question."

"Did he fight like Captain America?" she asked, smiling at her friend's distracting tangent.

"Don't know. Ran home." He laughed, the stopped himself and cleared his throat, "Seriously though, Macgrath, what's with the super powers? I feel like I'm on crazy pills."

"I really don't know. It just… happened." He looked at her skeptically,

"Seriously, I just _felt _it. Every time I use it, it's this weird sense of familiarity mixed with holy-shit-what-is-happening-to-me. Either way, I ended up here, and that guy from last night is very interested in me, or whatever I am." She decided to leave out the memories and bones.

There was the silence again.

"Well, what does this mean?"

"I don't know," she hadn't had a moment to consider the consequences of these events, "There is clearly something about my past I can't remember, or maybe… someone doesn't want me to remember?" she felt absurd, but speculated cautiously, anything to keep her mind moving.

"What do you think the chances are that all of this is an insane coincidence and there is no greater plot or enemy I should worry about?"

Jon grimaced, not one to lie, but neither wanting to confirm her suspicions of future danger.

"I can't be seen with you, Jon. If there is someone after me…shit, we know there is at least one person after me. I can't involve you any more than I already have."

"Don't be an idiot, we're friends Elena, I'm here for you no matter what." He spared a seconds glance to convey the gravity of his statement before returning his eyes to the road. She smiled, warmed by her friend's deceleration, but her heart was filled with dread and worry. She had to get away from him.

They drove back to town in silence, once they had made it closer to the city, Elena grabbed her head, feigning sickness,

"Jon, could we pull over? I think I'm going to vomit."

Not one to let anything damage his car, he immediately pulled over at the nearest station and Elena opened the door, sprinting into the store. She headed towards the back where the bathrooms were but took a left into the back of the store instead. Their back stock was small and she easily navigated through to an exit. Bursting free, she sprint down the ally and out of sight, hoping Jon wouldn't follow.


End file.
